


Making Amends

by Majinie



Series: Insomnia [3]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain Fury, Clint likes strange places, Did I mention they ALL have issues?, Dreams and Nightmares, Fluff, Forgiveness, Loki pranks, Natasha likes Loki's hair, Steve loves drawing, Tahiti is a Magical Place, Weaknesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-09-08
Packaged: 2018-03-14 09:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 11,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3404909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Majinie/pseuds/Majinie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki is encountering the Avengers, one by one, and begins to sort out the mess he has created. Set during the two weeks mentioned in chapter 20.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Clint

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint sleeps (or more like, does NOT sleep) in unusual places...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta Myrsky! ^.^

Loki was not sure what had brought him to the kitchen on the common floor in the first place, given that it was three in the morning. Maybe it was the fact that he had never cared to fill the one on his own level with food, but he was not really hungry. Anyway he stood in front of the refrigerator and thought about searching for leftovers.

“Havin' nightmares?”

Startled he spun around to see – nobody. The kitchen was dark and a few seconds he just stared into nothing before he turned again and finally glanced up.

“Barton, what in the name of Hel are you doing on the fridge?”

The archer shrugged while he climbed down and landed softly beside Loki, barely making a sound.

“Same as you. Not sleeping”, he replied and grabbed two cans from inside the fridge, acting as if it was the most normal thing in the world to spend the night up there. He popped them open and handed one over to Loki before he repeated: “So, nightmares?”

The god took a wee sip of the sweet drink before he sighed, rubbed his eyes and admitted: “I might have been suffering from night terrors.”

“No need to be ashamed”, the agent stated and Loki glanced up at him in surprise which only earned him another shrug. “Everybody here has them. We are all haunted, one way or another.”

A minute, they just stood there in silence until Barton started to explain in a low, thoughtful voice.

“Tasha dreams about her years in the Red Room, Tony about the torture by the Ten Rings and... well, the more obvious reasons”, he shot a pointed glare towards Loki who felt an unusual pang of guilt at the more or less unspoken accuse, “Bruce has his issues with the other guy and Thor... well, Thor actually got better since you're here. He didn't have nightmares, I think, but he used to have sleepless nights because he was worried sick about his little baby bro screwing shit up.”

The god noticed Barton had not given away his own fears, but decided not to push the topic. The openness the archer met him with surprised him – he had told him his teammates' weaknesses, and out of his free will at that. He felt like he would demand a payment later. But he would not come up with it himself, that much was sure.

Instead he mused: “Thor might not look like it, but he was haunted by night terrors too when we were younger. Back then, he used to come to my room for comfort at night. Even when we had fought, which was not seldom, he would sometimes be there and knock until I let him in eventually, and even though he was a rude oaf most of the time, I always calmed him. When he came back from his first battle, he slept at my place for almost a week.” He went silent, lost in memories he had thought (or rather wanted?) to be forgotten.

“What do _you_ dream of?”, Barton suddenly asked. He had seen that question coming. “Y'know, our connection wasn't just one-sided. I saw something of you, too, but it wasn't just the thing with the void, right?” Loki stayed silent, staring at his own slender hands. “You sorta own me an answer.”

“I dream of Him”, the god eventually said. “Of him and his threats, the ones he already made real and the ones that have yet to come true.” He hated the subdued tone in his voice, how weak it sounded with the painful memories, and lifted a finger to his lips to feel the scars that were still visible. “I dream of the torture, which was very creative, by the way. I dream of His mockery, of the illusions and the many times I begged for him to kill me already.”

His voice was shaking now, lowered to a whisper as he admitted: “You know, sometimes I catch myself believing things are to get better, but I know it is not possible and I will cause you trouble sooner or later – but I am selfish enough to stay anyway.”

Again, silence settled between them until Loki asked: “May I inquire what keeps you from sleeping, agent Barton?”

“I think I punched you enough to forgive you so it's just Clint”, the archer offered. It caught the other by surprise, but he just nodded and kept his questioning glare. Eventually Barton – no, Clint – sighed.

“There's a lot of things I'd rather forget”, he stated matter-of-factly. “Some things in my childhood, but more of my missions and... well, the recent events, too. Although I get along with that better than I expected, it just takes its time. Actually I'm not even angry with you.” Loki almost choked on whatever Barton had made him drink.

“You are not?”, he repeated. “That is... unexpected.”

“I was, at first. Of course I was. But it was business, right?”, the archer responded. “Working for SHIELD isn't what you do when you have high moral standards. If I'd take everything that happened on missions personal, I wouldn't have that much friends, really.” His voice went cold suddenly. “I never forgave you for Coulson though.” His eyes were speaking volumes.

“It was just business, as you say it”, the god mumbled quietly. “I would lie if I said I regret it, but I am sorry anyway. If that makes sense.”

“I guess it does. Doesn't mean you don't piss me off.” The archer finished his can and put it down onto the counter, an actual smile tugging at his lips. “Nighty-nighty, Loki. Try to sleep a little, there can't really happen anything to you when you're surrounded by earth's mightiest fucked-up heroes.” Was he really trying to reassuring him here? “Have a good night.”

“You too”, Loki muttered when the mortal left the kitchen to sink into silence again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are ^.^ The same is going to follow for the rest of the Avengers, let me know what you think! :)


	2. Natasha

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After workout, Loki and Natasha are alone in the living room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like I'm repeating myself, but I've got the most epic beta in the world ^.^ Thanks to Myrsky!

“Giving up already?” Romanov grinned self-confidently, the mocking tone to her voice completely unmistakable.

“Take a break, Lokes”, Stark added. “Seriously, you need it.”

“I'm fine”, Loki managed while gathering himself from the floor and– “For the sake of Odin's beard, Romanov, that was my rib! Didn't I tell you not to hit that?”

“Stop whining over there”, the assassin just replied and Loki sighed. The Avengers were not that much unlike Asgardian warriors.

Anyway it was kind of depressing that he could have handled all of them at once in his healthy state while now keeping up with _one_ of them was a real challenge. A woman, on top of that.

But here he was, struggling to keep himself upright and ignore the pain in his fractured ribs (he should probably not even be moving, but his metabolism took it quite well – plus, he could not stand being inactive any more than he had to after years of not being able to even move without _permission_ ) while the agent worked out her grudges against him.

“I'm fine”, he mumbled, and then repeated louder: “I'm fine. Make your move, Romanov.”

“Oh, c'mon, Loki”, Stark shouted over from the side of the gym where he sat, watching his teammates train. The engineer had had his fill for the day already, actually Romanov and Loki were the last ones up. “You've had enough for today, Bruce is gonna murder me if I let Tasha beat you up too much. Also, I owe Clint fifty bucks if you survive another round.”

“And I will continue just because you said that”, the god retorted and dodged a blow from the assassin, grateful for the minute he had had to catch his breath. She was fast and precise, and Loki decided this would be his last round for today so he could as well give everything.

With a quick movement, he lashed out and managed to catch Romanov off guard, pushing her to the floor when he used the moment she needed to find her balance again. He didn't miss a beat when he knelt on top of her, pinning her to the ground.

“Are we becoming careless, Romanov?”, he teased grinning and–

He gasped – refused that even might have been a yelp, because no, he was a god and he just did _not_ yelp. Not even when he was _somehow_ yanked off his feet and spun around in a way that eventually led to him being pressed face-down onto the mat, his arm twisted behind his back and held firmly in place.

“I think _you_ might be”, the assassin replied lowly, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“I... just might. Fine, point to you. Would you be so kind to let go of me now?”, he muttered. This was embarrassing. He had _really_ grown careless.

A few seconds she held the pose, but then he felt her weight lifted off him and huffed as he brought his arm back into a natural position.

“Hey, Dasher, you alive?”, Stark called out.

“Mostly”, he answered while staggering to his feet.

“Damn. Clint, there you go. I was sure she'd kill him this time.”

“Your concern is truly touching”, Loki stated, voice dripping with sarcasm. _Ow_ , when did she hit his leg? It hadn't hurt like that yesterday, had it?

“That's it for today”, Romanov announced, throwing a towel at him.

“I can keep going”, the god said, frowning (and just for the record: he could not, but he was called god of lies for a reason). Anyway he was relieved when she waved his response off.

“Take a shower and relax, Tony's right. Next time I would have gone for your ribs and Bruce won't appreciate me bruising them too much”, she responded, grinning. “And it's no fun when you start complaining about them because then I know you're done.”

Loki went for a snippy retort, but he only managed a startled “Ow!” when Tony patted his back and _of course the fool hit right onto his rib!_

“For Nine's sake, Stark”, he groaned, “watch your hands or I will cut them off one day.”

“Why do you make that sound so wrong?”, the engineer asked with a spark of mischief in his eyes.

“...I will be taking this shower now”, Loki mumbled while he started to head for the door. “I am too tired to deal with you at the moment.”

“Hah! See that? He surrendered to me!”, Stark cheered from behind. The god only sighed and tossed his towel into the engineer's face before the elevator closed.

 

~*~

 

Still with damp hair, but in fresh clothes (Midgardian gear Stark had provided him, tight black jeans and a dark green – how had he called it? A hoodie? – in which pockets he had his hands buried in) Loki made his way to the Avenger's common floor. In the first week, he had been reluctant to go there, but he had adapted fast, as he always did.

So he sat down on one of the couches – the living room was empty when he entered – and focussed on a book he had brought with him. He had quite a lot of fun when he read books considered as _f_ _antasy_ by humans because they had so amusing ways trying to explain magic. Some weren't even that far from it, but the author he had picked out now, Terry Pratchett, did not even seem to take the topic serious. Well, he was funny anyway.

“That won't work twice on me, agent Romanov”, he smiled without looking up. He heard a sigh from somewhere behind him.

“You know, you should be able to let your guard down at a place you feel content in”, she stated while she came to sit beside him. What exactly made her assume he felt safe here?

He chose not to ask that, but replied instead: “You don't do it either, do you?” He met the assassin's estimating glance that seemed to rest on his hair for... for far too long. “Do I get an answer?”, he asked cautiously and caught his own fingertips wandering to his damp, tangled hair. He had not taken care of it after the shower so it was hanging into his face and onto his shoulders in messy, black curls, still dripping a little.

“No, you don't”, she eventually said. “Wait here.” And then she was gone, out of the room with fast steps.

Had he unsettled her that much with his question? She didn't seem like somebody to be disturbed that fast and _if_ she was, then she wouldn't normally show it by retreating, would she? On the other hand, she had told him to stay, so maybe she intended to continue the conversation and was off to... to what, exactly?

Sighing, he returned to his book, letting himself being absorbed in the (absolutely silly) story told in it, until–

“So it does work then.”

He startled, flinching and looking up to the origin of the voice. Romanov, of course.

“You”, he started, but cut himself off with a deep breath and a chuckle. “This time you got me.” She only smiled and circled the sofa so that she was standing behind him. As he tried to turn around, there was a little “Nuh-uh, don't do that” from behind him.

The next moment, Loki felt something at his scalp and tensed up for a moment, but when there was a gentle movement downwards, he got she... was _brushing_ his hair. Nobody had done that in... just about nine hundred years. Why was she _doing_ that?

Although the question gnawed at him, he decided it would be the wisest not to comment on her doings, and after a while he closed his eyes and relaxed as she brushed his black locks back and then started to massage a liquid that smelled foreign, but still somewhat pleasant, into them.

The last person to pay something as minor as his hair such an attention had been Frigga because he cared about his looks, yes, but he had never actually taken much time on them.

“It is difficult sometimes”, she spoke up and the god decided not to answer, but let her talk at her own speed. “Letting my guard down, I mean. I've been raised under... conditions different from those here, and sometimes I forget that nothing can actually happen here – I mean, Tony's practically paranoid, there's no way somebody gets in here without his permission.”

Romanov paused in her movements as well as in her speech, and when she continued, there was a light chuckle to her voice: “At least, nobody but me.” She became serious again. “But perhaps that's what unsettles me. I'm really not arrogant enough to believe I'm the only well-trained assassin out there, and I've made a lot of enemies during my life.”

“So have I”, Loki answered, his voice faint, but loud enough for the assassin to hear. “And I have got a promise at hand that they will come after me.” He felt himself tense up at the words and tried to consciously relax, but the thought of the Other's threats had him on the verge of panic in a matter of seconds. He felt like slapping himself because he had brought it up in the first place.

But Romanov did not comment on his display of weakness, on his fingers clutching the book and ripping a page in half, his slightly sped up breathing or the way he kept himself from flinching from her touch. She just kept combing his hair and maybe stroking him a little more subtly than it was necessary, a little more like the a reassurance that a mother might give to her son than simply getting loose strands out of his eyes.

Slowly he found his grounding in reality more stable, easier to grasp once again and eventually he closed his eyes, thoroughly ignoring the voice at the back of his head that screamed at him for letting himself get carried away at the hands of a former enemy.

Loki only realized just _how_ carried away he had gotten when he noticed the steady touch was gone. Hesitantly and still relaxed he opened his eyes to find Romanov standing in front of him, surveying him with her usual observing glare, but there was something softer to it now, less hostility.

“Thank you, Romanov”, he mumbled reluctantly. He still felt like actually showing gratefulness would make him more bound to the Avengers, more vulnerable to them. The words crossed his lips uncertain and he avoided her eyes by looking at her nose so he did, at least, not _seem_ like he was avoiding her. He was, of course, and he did not really imagine she would not notice.

“You're welcome”, she replied, watched him a little moment longer and then turned around, heading for the door. Halfway out in the hallway, she looked back and added: “Besides, Natasha's just fine.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, Tasha can be girly. I'm not even sorry.  
> Next one will be Steve, see you then ;)


	3. Steve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve likes drawing, Loki looks awesome, things happen. And Tony misunderstands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Myrsky, my lovely beta, deserves a hug. As always. ^.^

It was late in the afternoon and Loki had made himself comfortable on a couch in the living room of the common floor with a book, knowing it was usually unoccupied at this time of day.

He was not quite right though, because after about half an hour of reading, the Captain entered the room. He hesitated a moment when he spotted him, but then sat down on the opposite armchair with a sketchbook on his lap.

“If you don't mind”, he said, glancing up at Loki who only shrugged it off.

Apparently, he was quite absorbed in his book, because it took him about ten minutes to realize Rogers was drawing _him_. For another while he acted as if he had not noticed anything, but – curiosity killed the cat, right? – then he put the book aside and stood up, folding his hands behind his back and walked over to the soldier who looked at him almost apologetic as if he had been caught while pulling a prank.

Neither of them said a word while Loki circled him, his face not betraying any emotions, to look at the sketch that was actually pretty good. It showed him with his hair hanging loosely in his face, dark lashes over the eyes that were lowered onto the book he held with long fingers and somehow Rogers had managed to give a graceful attitude to a motionless picture.

Eventually, the god found the courage to state: “I like it.”

“Thanks”, the Captain replied, obviously relieved, and finally glanced up at him smiling. “I just couldn't help myself. Some people just _have_ to be drawn.” Loki chuckled.

“I feel flattered, Captain”, he stated and slowly strolled over to the couch again. He felt the human's eyes digging into his back as he sat down. “Is there something you want to ask?”

The good Captain really needed a better pokerface because he looked caught like a schoolboy as he averted his eyes and cleared his throat.

“You know, I just thought that you don't resemble the Loki we first got to know much. I mean, you were trying to kill us back then, but there's something else that's different. Somehow you...” His voice trailed of at a loss for words.

“Did Thor tell you”, the god began thoughtfully, “what happened before I came to take over Midgard?” He received a shake of the other's head in reply. “So. I am not going to tell you the whole story, but just so you understand – let me put it another way. Since he flew into that... _black hole_ , as you called it, Stark is having nightmares, right?”

“Right”, Rogers confirmed hesitantly.

“Did you tell you about it? How it felt?”, he demanded.

“He doesn't talk about it much. But, well, a little bit we know. He said he felt... lost, because it was like _everything_ crushing down on him, and it was cold and...” He shrugged. “It's hard to imagine, really.” Loki nodded.

“So, how long has he been up there? Ten seconds? Twenty maybe?” He took a deep breath before continuing and didn't really want to admit how much it still scared him, this darkness, the _cold_ and the feeling like everything and nothing was choking him at once.

“I have been experiencing the same. Only that when I was tossed into the abyss by Thor, I kept falling for... over two years.” Loki heard the sharp intake of breath in front of him, but he kept his eyes lowered. “I feel childish sometimes, I am not even able to sleep in the dark any more because I can feel _things_ reaching out to me and remember things no being should be forced to see.” _Now_ it was really difficult to keep his voice stable, and he knew he was doing a poor job at it. “When _He_ found me, I would have done anything to keep him from abandoning me again. Leaving me to the void. It was... horrifying.”

His hands he had casually tugged into his pockets were trembling, as well as his shoulders, his voice – everything. Loki took a couple of deep breaths to calm himself, his eyes squeezed shut as he tried not to let the memories take over again.

As he felt a touch on his chest, his instinctive reaction was to flinch and he pressed himself back into the cushions and stared at Rogers, who was kneeling in front of him and had started to unbutton the god's dark green shirt.

“Rogers, what the hell are you –”

“Hush. I'm not going to hurt you or anything. Just relax. It'll help, believe me.”

 

~*~

 

“Oh god, Rogers, _please_!”

Tony frowned and froze in the hallway as he heard the voices coming from the living room.

“So... you have never had something like this before?”, Steve asked.

“Not... not like this”, somebody (Loki?!) answered, followed by a stifled moan. “I would not have thought you were experienced in things like this.”

 _What the hell is happening in there?!_ , Tony thought without feeling bad even for a second for eavesdropping. It was _his_ tower after all.

“I don't know why people think this. It's such a great way to relax people.” _What the hell, Steve?_ “Bucky used to love it”, the soldier answered.

_Bucky?!_

“You seem quite—ah, do that again, right there!” A few more seconds, Tony listened quietly (more and more appalled) as Steve said: “Sooner or later, you end up doing this in the army.”

_Huh._

“It occurs to me you have more – yes, this is it... That spot, please... oh gods, I have not had something like this in far too long.” There was another moan from Loki.

“Am I hurting you?” Concerned, careful.

“No, it's just a sensitive spot, Rogers...”

_Figures. Seriously, Cap, what the hell?!_

“I think you can call me Steve by now, Loki. Really, we're over this whole last name thing now, aren't we?”

_Oh, it sounds like that, really._

“As long as you keep doing that”, the god mumbled.

That was the moment Tony decided to walk in.

“Alright, if you're going to continue this, get a goddamn room, you – oh.”

Two pairs of blue eyes stared at him, Steve's baby-blue and the lighter ones from Loki who was situated on the couch, the soldier kneeling behind him and massaging his shoulders.

“Well, that's... awkward”, the engineer stated and finally Steve got it, immediately blushing and pulling away (which earned him a longing gaze from Loki).

“ _Tony_! What the hell are you thinking?!”, he exclaimed and the god added: “What is it, Stark? Jealous?” That teasing grin had definitely had a thousand years of practice.

“Like hell”, he muttered and made his way to the coffee table, retrieving the tablet that laid there. “Was just here for this”, he held it up and turned around to get to the kitchen, “and you two can resume whatever you were doing.”

Steve and Loki kept it together until he was out of the door, but he could still hear them bursting out in laughter when he was in the hallway.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I'm not even sorry.


	4. Tony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Working in the lab with Stark is Loki's favourite time of the day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn it, I didn't even mean this to get fluffy, that should be staying in the main story. Now I have to add Fluff to the tags. But whatever, here you go.  
> Thanks to Myrsky for beta'ing! :)

Loki watched Stark working. He did so often in the past week, it had become a part of his daily routine. Wake up, make breakfast, work out, then an hour or so in the infirmary, lunch, and the afternoon was usually split in half between sitting on a couch in the engineer's workshop and spending time with whatever Midgard had to offer, which was a lot. He had just started to explore the internet.

But the time in the workshop was probably his favourite during the whole day. It was quiet (aside from the occasional explosion) and today he was lying flat on his stomach on a couch with a book, feet up in the air.

His gaze was fixed on the screens in front of the millionaire, though. There were lines and lines of formula and code, growing longer with every minute. Stark reached up sometimes, moving things on the holographic displays, and kept typing. He didn't even sit down to work.

Slowly, Loki got up from the couch and approached the mortal who was standing with his back turned towards him and glanced over his shoulder. He stayed like this for a few seconds before pointing out: “That does not make sense.”

He got the reaction he might have been hoping for a while: Stark gasped and spun around, tripped, and nearly fell backwards onto the table he had been working at.

“Fuck, Loki!”, he swore. “Stop doing that!” The god just flashed him a grin and pointed at the screen. Sighing, the engineer turned around and complained: “Oh, c'mon, don't you try to criticize me. How would you even know, huh?”

“Mathematics are a language spoken everywhere.”

“Thor doesn't know anything about it”, Stark remarked.

“Fine, I shall correct that statement. Mathematics are spoken everywhere by people who educate themselves.” The engineer chuckled and looked at the screen again.

Loki enjoyed the ramble with the mortal. He had wit, he was intelligent and it was fascinating to work with him. And he had the most... _interesting_ ideas.

“Hey, Lokes?”, he asked. “Is it possible to... you know, kinda store magic?”

“For what purpose?”, the god asked back.

“I thought about”, the engineer gestured towards the wall where his suits stood, “maybe something for my armour. Because that's some really, really awesome form of energy you've got there, so maybe it's possible to use it in some other way, so maybe, I mean possibly...”

“I get your point”, Loki interrupted. “It is possible, yes. But I do not have access to my magic just now, so I am not sure if I can aid you with that.”

“Ah, that's okay”, the millionaire replied, beaming. “We're going to get it back.” He grabbed the god's wrist and shoved up his sleeve to look at the runes. Loki winced, hissed and pulled back. As he saw the startled look in Stark's eyes, he sighed and relaxed his stance a little.

“Sorry”, he breathed. “Just... don't touch them, would you?”

“Yeah, sorry, I didn't mean to – does it hurt?”

Loki shook his head. “No, I am just... I would rather not be... it was not pleasant, that is all.” He sighed and looked at the black engravings before he pulled the fabric back over them. He really didn't want to remember the procedure just now. But he was the god of lies for a reason, so he put on a smile and looked up again. “So, where were we?”

Stark gave him his I-don't-buy-this-and-will-definitely-ask-you-again-later-look before he resumed his rambling: “We don't have to do it _now_ , but you could explain to me how you...”

And so they went on.

 

~*~

 

…

…

“...Stark?”

“Uh-huh?”

“Was the explosion part of the plan?”

“It was... um... well, I didn't actually _expect_ it. I knew it _could_ happen though.”

The engineer brushed some dust off his shirt (it didn't really make a difference) while Loki fumbled around with his hair (how the hell had the screw gotten there?) and wiped grease out of his face. Or smeared it all over.

“But, um, it was green, right?”, Stark said. “So, it's not _that_ far from what we wanted.”

“We did certainly _not_ want it to explode, unless I missed something.”

“We're close.”

“Of course.”

Loki had, during the past two days, found a way to avoid the boundaries of the runes. He couldn't use his magic to the full extent, but he could store little amounts of it. What he could summon was not enough to perform a spell, and it was exhausting, anyway he was glad Stark had encouraged him to try it. It was good to know Odin had not managed to bind his full might and on his own, he might have never found out – he hadn't even thought of trying it.

Of course – if he had stripped every bit of magic off his son, he would be running around in his Jotun form. The thought alone made his skin crawl.

“But if we try to store it with...” Loki huffed when the mortal started rambling once again.

“Before we do anything, I am going to take a shower”, he interrupted and rose from the floor. Stark laughed and ran a hand through his greasy hair.

“Maybe you're right.”

The god snorted. “I am always right.”

“Nope, that's me.”

Shaking his head, Loki made his way to the exit of the workshop and heard the mortal following him.

“So, do you think you'll get your magic back?”

The question made him hesitate for a moment, the door half-opened.

“I am not sure”, he replied. “It is, now that I look at it, only normal that I can access some of it, because it is a natural part of my body so Odin could not take it away entirely. But I don't believe I can fully remove the boundaries. For that, I have to fulfil the conditions.”

“Conditions?”, the engineer inquired. “What conditions?”

“That is the problem”, Loki sighed. “I don't know them. Maybe Odin didn't want me to know because he was afraid I could bow his conditions to my will. I probably could have.” At the last sentence, he smiled, even if it was mirthless. “It is probably written in the runes, but since they are pure magic, I cannot read them in my current state. The only result I get are headaches.”

“Gosh, you aliens are more complicated than I thought.”

The god huffed and finally pushed the door open completely to make his way to the elevator. Stark entered with him and for a while, the mechanical whir of the cabin was the only sound.

Loki let his gaze wander over the engineer's form, from his tousled hair down over his torn shirt to the greasy jeans and his bare feet, then up again to look at the device in his chest. Its blue light was barely visible in the brightly lit cabin.

“It keeps me alive”, Stark suddenly said and the prince felt as if he had been caught while staring. Well, he had been, actually. The mortal didn't meet his eyes, but stared somewhere only he could see. His hands were tugged in his pockets and he looked very subdued, small when he continued. “I've got metal shards in my chest. Shrapnel. This thing here”, he raised a hand and tapped the reactor with a fingernail, producing a quiet _cling_ -sound, “is a magnet. It keeps them in place so they don't reach my heart.” He shrugged.

“There is more behind it, right?”, Loki asked. The other still wouldn't meet his eyes, but he didn't lock the little door that was now there either.

“Kind of”, he muttered. “I... I got it while I've been held captive. And I... the guy who started all of that, who _made_ them abduct me, was... you know, almost like my father. Just... better, because my father never cared to be one. And... he wanted Stark Industries so he wanted them to kill me, so there wouldn't be anything on his way.” Stark's voice sounded as if it was on the edge of breaking and the hand he had tapped the device with before was now fisted in his own shirt tightly in a protective gesture, covering the reactor. “It's just I... I trusted him, wholly, and then... god.” He exhaled a breath and pressed his hands onto his eyes. “That's why... that's why it's a little more than just keeping me alive. The reactor, I mean. It's a reminder. Making sure I never forget what happened there.” His breathing was irregular, short, almost coming in gasps.

For once, Loki was at a loss for words; this was more than he had expected to hear. But he couldn't let him stand there just like this and walk out (well, he could, because the elevator had stopped a while ago and the doors were open, but still – that was nowhere near acceptable) so he reached out, not sure if it was the right thing to do, and pulled the mortal close into an embrace, not tight enough to be threatening, but still firm.

To his relief, there was not a second of resistance. The smaller man sighed deeply and rested his head in the crook of Loki's neck, wrapping his arms around the god's waist to have something to hold on, and they stayed like this until Stark breathed normally again, and then a little longer just because.

Eventually, the engineer took a step back and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. Loki did not comment on it.

“I think, um”, Stark cleared his throat and after that, his voice sounded better, “we're on your floor. So, um, you're going to take your shower and I'm going up to get mine. Unless you want to take me with you, of course.” He grinned and there he was again, the genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, not broken or harmed in any way. Not for the outside to see.

“Thank you, but I decline”, Loki chuckled.

“Too bad”, the engineer replied. “Then I'm going to get a drink now.”

“I shall let you alone to fight this war with your liver”, the god said and stepped out of the elevator. He heard the mortal snort.

“Lokes?”

“Yes?” The prince turned around in the hallway and looked at Stark who seemed a little lost, alone in the elevator cabin.

“Thanks.”

In the perfect moment the doors slid close, just in time for Loki to say: “You are most welcome, Stark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Issues, issues, issues. These people have so many issues. But they're too cute not to love them.


	5. Thor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is watching his little brother. Always. Loki can't help but notice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta Myrsky, this was a mess before she looked over it. ^^"

Loki was used to Thor watching him. The big blonde seemed overly happy with having his little brother back, and to be honest, Loki had been tired of fighting anyway. He was glad they could finally speak again, like siblings did. (Which didn't mean his older brother wasn't still an idiot.)

But today there was something else about him. Even without looking up from his book, he could practically _feel_ the god's frown from the other side of the living room. It unnerved him.

“Thor, what is it?”, he eventually asked. “Stop staring and talk to me.” He raised his eyes to meet the other's blue ones. Thor looked caught, but just for a second before he asked: "Why do they not heal?"   
  
Loki frowned. "What?"

"Your scars." The thunderer made a vague notion with his hand while stepping closer. "They should have healed by now."

Thoughtfully, the trickster lifted a hand and ran a finger over the scarred tissue of his lips where the thread had been. It was still visible, and more than that, he could feel the white lines. The thought made him cringe. Most of his bruises were already healed so he could move almost without feeling pain, he barely noticed them anymore, but he knew that if he had he still been the same way he had been before, it would have been a matter of one, maybe two days instead of almost two weeks.

"Because I am stripped of nearly all my magic", he answered. It was painful to admit, it was and had been such an important part of himself that it felt like a missing limb sometimes, but he had to recognize it was the truth. "Even you have seidr running through your body, it is what makes your healing process so much faster and better than the mortals'. You would have known it if you had listened to what they told us as children."

Thor grinned a little sheepishly and defended himself: "That was nearly a thousand years ago, Loki!"

"Well, I still know everything about it", the younger god pointed out with a hint of mockery. "But surely I cannot expect that you, the golden prince, occupies himself with meaningless studies such as mine." He grinned to take the edge from the words. "I mean, you have got the - what did Stark call it again?"

"It's the magical Nokia-on-a-stick!", the engineer called from the kitchen. And what kind of weapon was a Nokia again?

Loki blinked. "Have you been eavesdropping?"

"I would never!"

Sighing, the trickster shook his head. Insufferable mortals. Then he blinked at Thor, struck with an idea, and asked sweetly: "Thor? Would you mind making me some hot chocolate?" He wanted to return to his book, because discussing his almost mortal nature did nothing to improve his mood.

The blonde beamed at him and declared "I shall make you the best hot chocolate Midgard has ever seen!" before running off to the kitchen, just at the same time that Stark left it. The millionaire looked at Thor, then at the grinning Loki on the couch. Snickering, he sat down beside him, his hands holding a steaming mug of coffee.

"Seriously, Lokes?", he asked. "Just look at Thor. The whole world domination thingy wasn't needed at all, you simply had to bat your sweet eyelashes and go all ' _Oh, big brother, can I have a world for my birthday, pretty please?_ ' and would've run off to get you one."

Loki laughed and replied: "Yes, Stark, I shall try that the next time I feel like conquering a world. Right now, however, hot chocolate sounds just fine to me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are :D  
> And hey, we're almost done! Just Bruce to go (and yup, his chap is in progress), although I can promise there is going to be at least one bonus chapter...


	6. Bruce

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki has to let doctor Banner look at his injuries because there is no one else to do it, but he is not exactly comfortable with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my beta Myrsky for making my twisted sentences readable :D

Loki sat on a bed at the infirmary, hands clenched around the edge of the mattress. He was waiting for doctor Banner to arrive for changing his bandages and checking on the wounds, this time while he was conscious. Loki was not looking forward to it, to say the least. There was no way he was going to forget his encounter with Banner's alter ego, even though what he had seen of his human form appeared to be calm and friendly.

He was not going to fall for that.

The door opened to let the man in. Banner's movements were careful, nervous, and the smile he sent Loki, shallow. He was a terrible actor.

After gathering his supplies and storing them on a small tray, he carried it over to the god and set it down on the bed beside him. All of that happened in a tense silence until he spoke for the first time.

“I can't promise this is going to be nice, but I'll be careful”, he said. How very reassuring. “Take the shirt off, please.” The command was obeyed silently and for a few seconds, the doctor just eyed the bandages over Loki's chest critically, especially the spots where wounds had opened again due to his movements and left small, red marks on the white fabric. Then, he took a pair of scissors and moved forward to cut the fabric, and Loki couldn't help but flinch at the memories that were flooding his mind suddenly.

_A hand moving towards him, holding a small, bloodstained knife, while he screamed at them to stop._

_A giant green arm reaching out for him and the painful collision with the marble floor._

Loki squeezed his eyes shut in expectation of an attack, holding his breath, and grabbed the thin sheets even tighter. Time froze while he tried to breathe deeply and failed, and then he heard a sigh which made him dare to squint up at the doctor. He met dark brown, sincere eyes that held nothing, really nothing evil in them, no matter how much he sought for it.

He exhaled slowly, realizing that he had overreacted, and stared at the floor intently. The mortal did not only see him physically, but also emotionally vulnerable right now and that could only mean trouble.

“Hey.” The soft voice made him direct his gaze upwards again. It was the voice of someone who had worked with children, with scared little creatures, but right now, it was helping and Loki hated it. Also, the complete lack of hate, anger or any bad intention in the mortal's eyes was just too strange to trust. He knew the man's other form and he was not going to fall for this harmless disguise. “What are you afraid of?”

The question came unexpected and therefore it hit even harder. _A lot of things_ , he thought.

“I am not afraid”, he replied disdainfully, but he knew his tense stance and his reaction from earlier had already given him away. His jaw was clenched so hard that it hurt.

“Of course you're not”, Banner mumbled softly. “Then be good and hold still for a minute, because this is going to burn.”

_This is going to burn._

A flood of memories broke down on him, things he just _did not want_ to remember, and the mortal seemed to notice his mistake, opening his mouth to say something, but Loki cut him off with a hiss: “Just _get going_ already.”

After a short moment of hesitation, Banner raised a cloth. The liquid it was soaked with made Loki's eyes water, but that was nothing compared to the pain it caused where it touched his torn lips. Yes, it was for his own good and yes, it kept the injuries from getting worse, but _for the Norn's sake, it hurt._

 

~*~

 

When Banner was done with everything an hour later, Loki felt like he had gone to hell and back. Twice.

Well, he had had worse in his five years of captivity, but that hadn't made him immune to pain and he felt truly sorry for humans because why had _healing_ to _hurt_ them so much, wasn't it supposed to make things better?

He was wrapped in clean bandages again and, in front of him, the doctor picked up his tools.

“Thank you”, Loki muttered.

The mortal turned around in surprise. “Excuse me?”, he asked, confusion in his dark eyes.

“You heard me very well and I am not going to repeat it”, the god replied. “You are by no means forced to do this, and yet you are here and do the best your mortal supplies allow you. For that, I am grateful.”

Banner smiled. “Don't try to define me by what you saw at our first... um... encounter.” Loki held back a snort. Yes, _encounter_. It had indeed been a nice _encounter_ with the stone floor. “You know, the other guy wasn't always a part of me and we... we don't always get along very well. I would really appreciate if you didn't see us as one person. I don't even usually know what he's doing.”

Now it was Loki who displayed a small, almost invisible smile. “We all have sides that we do not like and did not choose for ourselves.” He was careful not to let his words give away more than he intended to. “But, as you are surely aware of, it is possible to control them and maybe even gain advantages through them.”

He said _control_ , not _accept_ , and in the scientist's expression he saw that he noticed his choice of words.

“You're right”, he agreed, carefully staying on neutral terrain with his statement. “Doesn't make it easier though.”

“Yes.” Loki reached for his shirt. “But maybe it is worth the effort.” He stood up carefully, testing his legs before he let his full weight rest on them.

“Maybe”, came the reply, and the doctor sent him a smile that was genuine for the first time in the conversation. Loki had found a common ground, a terrain they could both move on, carefully, but not in fear.

“Thank you, doctor Banner”, he said while walking out, and they both knew he didn't refer to the medical treatment – although Loki was not exactly sure himself of what he was thanking him for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, I'd say this is the end of this series, but that'd be a lie. Bonus chapters ahead. ;)


	7. Phil Coulson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an unexpected guest at the meeting with SHIELD, and it's not Loki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because I can't stop writing: Have a bonus chapter.  
> Thanks to Myrsky for beta'ing and having the patience to put up with my sudden writing flashs.

“For fuck's sake, Natasha, that's enough!”, Clint yelled. “I did _not_ sleep with Tony, and even if I had, it's _my_ fucking business!”

The aforementioned engineer sat on his chair in the conference room, not coming in late for once, and looked at his Stark Pad while he pretended not to listen. Unnecessary, really, probably they were audible over the whole floor. Fury had called them in for a meeting and so he was in the room with only Clint and Natasha so far who were arguing about the archer's sex life, apparently.

“My problem is that you had to choose _Tony_ out of everybody!”, the red-haired spy snarled. “Just because he fucks anyone who gets in his way -”

“Whoa, you're getting a little insulting here”, the millionaire muttered, but he was thoroughly ignored.

“It's _my_ choice, I'm old enough to do what I want”, the archer hissed. “Stop that damn mummy-attitude, I was perfectly fine without a mother for my whole life – besides, this whole discussion is completely unnecessary because I did! Not! Fuck! Tony!”

“I'm not fussing over you, I'm trying to appeal to your brain, Clint. Why can't you -”

“Because he's dead, Tasha!”, the archer interrupted, shouting so loud that his voice almost cracked. He took a deep, shuddering breath and slumped back into his seat. Whispering and hunched over the table, he repeated: “He's dead, okay? I can't keep mourning him forever, it doesn't make anything better."

A tense silence settled in the room, everyone was dwelling in his own thoughts until Steve entered. He noticed the bad mood immediately, just as Thor and Bruce who followed shortly after. They took their seats on the large table, waiting for Fury and Loki who had yet to arrive.

They had set the meeting at Stark Tower today because Fury wanted to check on Loki, see that he was not taking over the world – because if he couldn't keep him in custody, he at least wanted to have an eye on him, one way or another. As if his spies weren't enough.

Clint, with his back turned to the door, didn't look around when it was opened again. He stared at his hands which were clenched to fists in his lap, had his lips pressed together in a tight line and watched Fury's legs pass by, the black coat swinging around them, followed by Loki's in black jeans and then a pair of suit trousers.

Frowning, Clint looked up at the man. His breath caught in his throat when his gaze was returned out of the light grey eyes of a definitely not-dead Phil Coulson who looked at him with a distant, polite smile.

“You bastard”, the archer breathed. He pushed himself up from the table with such force that the chair fell to the ground. With two steps he was in front of the agent who attempted to say something, but was cut off by a fist connecting with his jaw so unexpectedly that it threw his head back.

Clint caught him by his tie before he could lose his balance completely and pulled the taller man down into a rough, forceful kiss.

Tony muttered “Yeah, I see just how _straight_ Clint is”, but was silenced by Steve's elbow in his ribs. The whole room was silent.

When the two broke apart just seconds later, the archer turned to Fury who had watched with a raised eyebrow and the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. He said calmly: “Director Fury, I'll have to excuse agent Coulson for this meeting. Thank you.” Without waiting for a response, he pulled the agent he still held by his tie out of the conference room.

 

~*~

 

“You knew it, right?”, Clint asked. “That's why you said you weren't sorry.”

Loki shook his head and replied: “I did not know about it back then. But I learned about his resurrection a few days ago. Project TAHITI is how SHIELD calls it. From what I heard, it is surprising Coulson made it out of there with his sanity intact. He believes you were tricked into thinking he was dead and not the other way around. It is probably for the best.”

“Yeah”, the archer muttered. They were in the kitchen of the common floor, alone, sitting at the table. Clint was waiting for Coulson to return from a mission he had had to attend. “Do I wanna know how you found out?” That brought him a small chuckle from Loki.

“Some things are better off as secrets”, he responded. It was not really all that spectacular, he had just happened to overhear a conversation Stark had happened to overhear. Coincidentally. Because he would never hack into SHIELD's systems. “When does he return?”

“At any moment.” Clint glanced at the watch on his wrist. “Actually, he's late already. That's unusual.”

“Do not worry. He is...”

“...fine, I know. Anyway, I don't like that Fury is scheduling him that much already. Yes, he can take care of himself, but... I've lost him once, I can't stand a second time.” He paused a moment. “That sounded terribly cheesy, right?”

“Regarding your history it is only appropriate. Oh, also, he is here.”

“How could you know? He -” The door opened and gave way for an exhausted looking agent who looked at them with his usual professional mask, but he didn't really bother to hide his cautiousness towards Loki. The god greeted him with a polite smile that was not returned.

Loki abandoned his chair just a minute of awkward silence later with the excuse to leave the two of them alone. On the doorstep, he turned around once again and said: “Agent Coulson, I am truly sorry for the poor circumstances of our first encounter. I assume I left a quite... negative first impression, didn't I?”

“Way to put it”, the agent snorted. “Listen, if you're trying to apologize –“

“Oh, no, I am not expecting you to forgive me”, the god interrupted. “That would be more than inappropriate to demand. I just wanted to make clear I have no personal grudge against you. Quite the opposite, I am fairly sure you would have made a great ally if we had met another way.”

"And you're telling me because...?"

Loki hesitated before speaking up again. “You could say I am trying to... make amends.” He nodded towards the two SHIELD agents. “Have a good evening.”

He left Coulson in confusion, but since Clint was there with him, he didn't get much time to think, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, THIS is probably the end.  
> Or do you have any ideas for someone Loki could make amends with? Doesn't have to be during chapter 20...


	8. Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki becomes an Avenger.   
> ...which sounds very smooth, but it really isn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set AFTER the last Insomnia chapter. Sort of like another epilogue. ^^ And I really just wanted Loki to play some more pranks...

Loki was sitting in the kitchen, having breakfast with the other Avengers (sans Tony so far – he had decided to leave the mortal to the sleep he so desperately needed right now) when JARVIS informed them that Fury was calling, but then stopped mid-sentence to add that Mr Stark had taken the call.

Two minutes later, the engineer walked into the kitchen, sweatpants low on his hips and with a black shirt that would probably showcase some oh-so-witty quip if the millionaire hadn't worn it inside out. One of his hands pressed a Stark Phone to his ear, the other one made little motions that resembled a mouth opening and closing. With a pointed eye-roll, he greeted the other Avengers and silently mouthed _blah blah blah_ before snatching a pancake from Loki's plate and stuffing it into his mouth.

Then, he stilled and huffed before muttering around the food: “Mh-hmph, 'course 'm doin' tha'. – Eat'n? Who's eat'n? - Nah.” He swallowed and coughed. “I'd never eat with you on the line, Nicky. That would be _so_ disrespectful. – You're always welcome here. Of course. Although you really shouldn't try to bring your – seriously? Did you just hang up on me? Whatever, _lovely_ chat, as always.” He tossed the phone onto the table and pushed Loki's arm aside so he could make himself at home in the god's lap. “Fury's coming to visit”, he said in a way of answer to the questioning looks from his teammates. “He didn't say it like that, but he wants Loki in for the Avengers Initiative.”

“I thought he didn't like me?”, the prince asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Well, he doesn't like me either, so that's not all that important”, Tony told him with a grin. “And he's going to lecture you for a while and maybe tell you you're recommended but not recommended since they seem to like that sort of thing at SHIELD's...”

“That was _one time_ , Tony”, Natasha cut in, twirling a butter knife between her fingers like a lethal weapon. Which it probably was when she wielded it.

“Whatever. You ready to become an Avenger, Lokes? Lemme warn you, if you do, there's going to be no excuse then to avoid the press conferences and you're going to have to save people even if you hate them.”

Loki grimaced. “Loki, Silvertongue, Liesmith and Avenger? I am not sure if I want that title added to my collection”, he remarked drily.

The engineer retorted: “It might be a nice replacement for 'Father of the eight-legged horse' though.”

“Mother of the eight-legged horse”, the god corrected calmly, enjoying the stunned silence that his words were met with before Tony said slowly: “I am going to ask you about that story. One day. I'm not sure if I'm ready for it right now.” Loki just smiled and returned his attention to the pancake in front of him.

The banter in the kitchen lasted almost another hour before JARVIS announced that director Fury would now be granted access to the common floor. Loki grinned to himself as he began to weave a spell, unnoticed by the other Avengers, and then hushed the others when the elevator _pling'_ ed and the sound of Fury's footsteps could be heard from the hallway.

_Tap-clack. Tap-clack. Tap-clack._

Clint frowned and tilted his head while Loki had a really hard time not grinning.

_Tap-clack. Tap-clack._

“What the hell is that?”, Anthony whispered and the god was really grateful for centuries of acting that helped him keep his laughter to himself.

 _Tap-clack_.

“It sounds like... not sure, metal boots? But only one of them”, Steve mused.

_Tap._

Loki stuffed his mouth with pancake to suppress a childish giggle.

_Clack._

There were a few beats of silence when Fury moved to stand in the doorway, visible to all of the Avengers. Anthony was the first one to burst out laughing, followed suit by Clint and then the Captain (who very poorly disguised it as coughing). Thor seemed slightly irritated and adorably uncomprehending, Bruce grinned into his tea and even Natasha's lips were curled up into a smirk. She met Loki's eyes with an inquisitively raised eyebrow and the god gave an innocent shrug that said it all, really.

“Mind telling me what's so funny?”, Fury barked. Loki eyed him up and down and found that he had outdone himself this time. The director's eyepatch was still in place, but there was a skull with two crossed bones displayed on it. He wore a large, triangular brown hat and a red bandanna that couldn't hide the dread locks hanging around his face. His trademark black coat had been replaced by a brown one that had apparently been repaired one time too many. Underneath, there was a white wool shirt and leather trousers, one leather boot and ( _clack_ ) an artificial, wooden leg.

So, admittedly, Loki had been using this Pirates of the Caribbean movies as a reference. It had worked, hadn't it?

“Cap-”, Anthony wheezed, gasped for air and then tried once again, “Captain Black Sparrow.” That sent Clint, who had just calmed down a little, into another fit of cackling. “What a lovely surprise!”

“Grow the hell up, Stark”, Fury growled. And that was the best about this particular spell. The director didn't even notice that anything was out of the ordinary.

“How was your holiday at the Caribbean?”

The spy gave Anthony a long, dirty look before he ordered: “Just stop talking. Those jokes are older than you, Stark, and they've never been funny. And that's for y' _all_.” He glared at the rest of the Avengers who were all in varying states of suppressing grins and giggles (except for Loki, who was a picture of wide-eyed innocence).

“Older than I am?”, Anthony repeated with raised eyebrows. “Just how long – never mind. I think you wanted something, didn't you? Something about taking Loki aboard the Black Pearl?” There was very slow, controlled breathing from where Clint sat and another cough from Steve. Fury sent them another glare that said _Not amused_ in about 500 languages before he spoke up.

“Alright, Loki, if you'd have the kindness to shove Stark off your lap so I can talk to you, I'd be infinitely grateful”, he said in a voice that didn't sound like grateful at all.

The engineer interjected: “It's actually quite comfortable here, I think I'll just – hey!” Loki gave him a sorry-not-sorry smile from the other side of the table. To hurry things up, he had just teleported away from under Anthony, causing the mortal to drop onto the chair and nearly down to the floor. “What about the No Teleporting In The Tower Rule?”, he demanded.

“I am afraid that I cannot recall a rule like that”, the prince responded with another innocent shrug.

“Well. It's a rule now”, Anthony grumbled.

“I spared you a lot of embarrassing situations by disobeying it so far”, the god pointed out, recalling their first night that had started out on the kitchen table. No need to retell that story, although Clint seemed to remember it, judging by the little cough that sounded like “thank god”.

“Yeah, go ahead”, Fury cut in, “keep bickering, I've got _all day_.” This time, nobody dared to speak up under his glare and he reached into his coat to pull out a black SHIELD file. It looked odd, so sterile and modern produced from the well-used pirate leather coat, so Loki quickly waved a hand and extended the spell on it, making it look like an ancient piece of parchment. It earned him another chorus of chuckling from the breakfast table and an irritated glance from Fury before the director tossed the file/ parchment onto the table, barely missing Natasha's fruit bowl, and asked: “Did somebody drug you or something?”

“Not this time”, Bruce answered and Loki quickly feigned a cough to hide his surprised laughter. Fury's expression made clear that he didn't buy it, but he had apparently given up asking.

Clearing his throat, the god picked up the small folder and questioned: “Does this mean I am officially in on the team, Captai- excuse me, director?”

“That”, Fury said after breathing in and out through his nose, “is not my call to make.” Upon Loki's surprised look, he pulled the other hand, the one that had been hidden up until now, out from behind his back and gestured towards the table (it was a shiny, golden metal hook). “They're the team. I got 'em together, but they've got a say now, too.”

There was a moment of silence (only interrupted by Clint's coughing that turned more and more worrying by the minute) until Steve spoke up first: “I think he would be a great asset to the team. I'd love to have him here.”

“I agree with Captain Capsicle on this”, Anthony said now. “Magic and technology make an awesome combination, apart from... uh, other benefits.”

“He's got nice hair”, Natasha stated while looking at her fingernails. That seemed to be every input that they'd get from her.

“I believe his healing... magic would be extremely useful”, Bruce piped up.

Thor did, of course, agree: “Loki's magical abilities have saved me countless times. It would be an honour to me to fight by his side again.”

“He's a jackass.” All heads turned towards Clint, who was, surprisingly enough, not currently choking on his laughter. After a moment of silence, he added: “I still think he'd be nice to have on the team. What would we be without at least one unsympathetic, sulky, moody guy?”

“I thought that was _you_ ”, Anthony commented with a raised eyebrow, making Loki smile. He was aware that Barton had just been his usual self, but that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy hearing Anthony defending him. It had something strangely consoling.

“No, no, I'm the one with all the great jokes”, the archer corrected, nudged Anthony's side and stage-whispered: “Hey, why is pirating so addictive?”

“...Uh, no idea?”, the mortal replied with a raised eyebrow.

“They say once you lose your first hand, you get hooked!” The two broke into another fit of giggling before Anthony countered: “And what's Captain Hook's favourite store?” Upon the questioning glance he got from Clint, he grinned: “The Secondhand-Shop!”

Fury began to tap his foot on the floor (unfortunately, it was the one Loki had made into a wooden leg so it made little _clack-clack-clack_ noises instead of the usual impatient tapping) and the inventor turned back towards him to comment: “Nice boot, by the way.” Fury frowned, glanced down at his feet and Loki chose that moment to remove the spell that prevented the director from seeing his... um, new outfit. There was a moment of silence in which the director/ pirate captain raised his hand slowly to stare at the silver hook, then down at the wooden leg and then at Loki with a murderous expression.

The god stood to attention and saluted, prompting a snicker from behind him that broke the tense silence. Fury breathed in deeply while rolling his eyes – pardon, eye – heavenwards and then snapped: “Y'know what? I don't fucking care. Stay here, you fit _right_ in with those.” With that, he turned on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen ( _tap-clack, tap-clack, tap-clack_ ) and Loki could hear him bark something at some poor SHIELD-agent who hadn't managed to stifle his laughter. Well, it wasn't like Loki had done any harm. He'd lift the spell.

Eventually.


	9. Hulk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hulk confronts Loki and does... not smash him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also set after the events of Insomnia. Have fun!

The first mission Loki attended after officially being assigned as an Avenger was one that involved contraptions which Tony called 'Doombots'. He was still not sure whether he should admire Victor van Doom because he, as a mortal, managed to actually use some basic levels of magic or if he should murder him for having the audacity of calling himself a mage. Maybe those two things weren't all that contradictory.

The greatest problems about these things were that they came in large numbers and that they, unlike living beings, had no perception for pain that would allow them to be incapacitated by a missing limb or something. They needed to be either beheaded or crushed completely and thoroughly. Needless to say, the green beast greatly enjoyed itself. Not that Loki minded, but he still paid attention to keeping a respectful distance between the two of them. A little caution couldn't hurt.

Actually, it was a quite pleasant way of relieving stress – he was allowed to tear things apart without having to take (great) care about collateral damage. Doom's bots were the perfect playground to try out new spells and ideas for new ways of using magic (which didn't mean that he didn't still want to kill the mortal, but something about invading Latveria and murdering somebody there seemed diplomatically unacceptable so that would have to wait).

All in all, this wasn't the worst thing he had ever been forced to do in his free time.

“For the love of god, I swear, I am going to murder that fucker!” Anthony apparently begged to differ. “Do you see that? I mean, do you _see_ that? That bastard is _so_ trying to copy my repulsor technology, that's so shitty it's not even funny anymore. If I get a hand on that...”

“Why don't you focus on the problem at hand?”, Loki suggested while screwing a Bot's head off. It made the most adorable screeching noise.

“I am focussed. By the way, nice one, Loki”, Anthony commented, prompting the god to look upwards. The mortal was floating above him in his flashy armour and gave him a thumbs up while the mage tossed the Bot's head aside.

“We're nearly done here, there are just about – oh shit, Lokes, watch out behind –“ Loki whirled around and only realized that it was a mistake when the metal arm of the Doombot hit his temple with full force and sent him tumbling to the ground. “-- you. Oh fuck. Are you okay? Loki?”

“Shut up”, Loki slurred, clutching the side of his head as he blinked and tried to regain his bearings. “Your voice hurts.”

“Oh thank god”, Anthony breathed.

“You are most welcome”, the god muttered and winced as Thor sent a booming “Brother! Are you well?” his way over the communicators. Oh, and there was still the issue with the bot... Groaning, Loki turned onto his back and tried to focus his magic despite the throbbing pain in his head. The Doombot was apparently one that its creator controlled by himself and Loki was grateful that van Doom enjoyed bragging so much. Currently, he was engaged in a speech about how the combination of technology and magic (pah! This man and magic!) would always be superior to just one of the things and how ending Loki's life was going to _blah blah blah_.

But he had one of the copied repulsors aimed at the prince and Loki saw the bot at least in two, sometimes even four places at once which made the use of his magic even more difficult. Also, the throbbing headache made it hard to concentrate enough to form a decent spell and he was running out of time...

Suddenly, Banner's alter ego jumped onto the Doombot from the side and tore its wiring apart effortlessly which efficiently rid Loki of his problem, only to present him with a larger one.

Growling, Hulk turned towards him and the god felt a surge of panic as the green beast crouched down in front of him. He heard Anthony's voice shout something over the comm, but it was drowned out by the sound of his own pulse and the blood rushing in his ears. The panic made accessing his magic an impossible task and he couldn't move, felt like he was rooted to the spot he was sitting on as a large, green hand reached his way and –

He squeezed his eyes shut and held his breath, waiting for an impact; there was dead silence on the comm lines as if everybody was holding their breath. Then, there was a surprisingly gentle pat to the top of his head (which still hurt a lot with the head injury and all, but it was nothing like being used to redecorate the pavement).

“Good puny god”, Hulk declared with his growling voice and Loki looked up in surprise to find the giant's broad face grinning at him widely before he was off to smash again.

Loki was still staring at its retreating back when Anthony landed beside him and flipped the faceplate of his suit up. He appeared to be out of breath, but grinned as he extended a metal hand to help his lover up and remarked: “Now would you look at that. I think you made a friend there, Lokes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I guess that it's it now :D That is, if you don't have any suggestions for characters Loki could encounter, but I think I'm finished with this. ^^


End file.
